Misfit Maid

‘One moment, if you please, ma’am.’ She turned to the modiste. ‘Perhaps you are not aware, madame, that I am the daughter of the late Earl of Shurland. I am also extremely wealthy. Since I require an entirely new wardrobe for the Season, you might reflect on how much my custom could enrich you.’

She was glad to see the shock gather in the woman’s face, and turned on her heel to march out before she could reply. Not much to her surprise, the modiste ran after her with a mouthful of apologies.

Maidie cut them short. ‘It makes no matter. Find me some gowns of suitable colours, and we shall say no more about it.’

The modiste made haste to comply. Clapping her hands, she scattered her assistants with a stream of instructions as Maidie turned back to Lady Hester, whose face was alight with laughter.

‘Maidie, you are abominable! Don’t you know that it is the height of bad taste to parade your rank and wealth?’

‘So it may be,’ said Maidie, unrepentant, ‘but that it is effective, you will scarcely deny.’

‘Her great-uncle, you must know,’ put in Miss Wormley with diffidence, ‘was a trifle eccentric. I am afraid he imbued her with some very improper notions.’

‘Humdudgeon!’ said Maidie. ‘Great-uncle may have been as eccentric as you please, but I must be ever grateful for his teachings. He could not abide shams, and nor can I.’

‘Well, let us not fall into a dispute over him,’ said Lady Hester pacifically. ‘Instead, we must bend our minds to the problem of gowning you appropriately.’

In the event, despite the new enthusiasm of Cerisette, it was Maidie and Lady Hester between them who selected the gowns most suited to her colouring. Maidie opted for a muslin of leaf-green, and a silk of dark blue. But her clever mentor bespoke a crêpe gown of pale russet that picked up highlights in her extraordinary hair, and muslins both of peach and apricot that enhanced the brightness above.

But when Lady Hester and the modiste seized upon a pale lemon gown all over silver spangles, Maidie balked again. ‘Nothing would induce me to wear such a thing!’

‘But you must have something suitable for a ball,’ protested Lady Hester.

‘That is as may be, but I refuse to parade around in a garment that would be better employed upon the stage. It looks fit for a fairy—and I am certainly not that.’

To everyone’s astonishment, including her own, she fell in love instead with a creamy muslin gown covered in huge sprigs of lacy black. Despite the protestations of her elders that the décolletage was positively unseemly, she insisted on trying it.

‘I am obliged to admit that it looks magnificent,’ conceded Lady Hester, watching Maidie twirl before the mirror.

‘It does take attention away from your hair,’ offered Miss Wormley in a doubtful tone.

‘It is hardly the garb of a debutante, but I dare say Maidie will not care for that.’

She was right, Maidie did not care. If something could indeed be done about her hair, she began to think that she might not fare so very ill, after all.

‘I never thought I could look so well,’ she marvelled. Drawing a breath, she turned confidingly to Lady Hester. ‘I do begin to have a real hope of finding a man willing to marry me.’

‘My dear Maidie,’ came the dry response, ‘there was never the least doubt of that. With your fortune, there will be no shortage of suitors, even had we made no change at all in the matter of your dress.’

Maidie fixed her with that wide-eyed gaze. ‘Then why are we doing all this?’

Lady Hester burst into laughter. ‘How can you ask me? For the purpose of bringing Laurie to heel. We cannot do without him, and he can have no objection to be seen with you looking like this.’

‘Which is as much as to say,’ guessed Maidie, with a glint in her eye that boded no good to the absent Viscount, ‘that he would not be seen dead with me otherwise!’

It was not until the early evening that Delagarde put in an appearance. He strode into the drawing-room where the ladies had gathered before dinner, and stopped short, staring. Maidie, unable to help herself, had jumped up on his entrance, and now stood rooted to the spot, her heart unaccountably in her mouth.

She was arrayed in the dark blue silk. It had long, tight sleeves, and its folds fell simply from the high waist, but Maidie became acutely aware that its cut across the bosom was slightly lower than it should be. Though this was as nothing to the anxiety that gripped her as she recalled her exposed locks. Until this moment, she had believed that the cleverly wielded scissors in the hands of a master had worked wonders.

The thatch of ginger had been considerably thinned, a deal of it combed forward to fall in curling tendrils about her face. The rest, behind a bandeau of blue velvet from which two dark feathers poked into the air, fell lightly upon her shoulders, with some few ordered ringlets straying down her back.

In vain did Maidie remind herself that she cared nothing for his lordship’s opinion. In vain did she recall the budding resentment she had experienced upon Lady Hester’s ill-considered revelation. The stunned expression in his face robbed her of all power over her emotions, until she realised that he was staring, not at her deplorable hair, but at her costume.

Delagarde found his tongue. ‘What the devil is that?’

‘Laurie!’

‘Have you all gone stark, staring crazy?’ He turned a fulminating eye on his great-aunt. ‘What do you call this? She is supposed to be making her debut. Only look at that neckline! And feathers!’ he uttered in a voice of loathing, his eye rising to Maidie’s head. ‘She looks like a matron with a bevyful of brats in her train, instead of…’

His voice died as he caught sight of her hair. For a moment he gazed in blankest amazement, the fury wiped ludicrously from his face.

‘Good God!’ he uttered faintly at length.

Quite unable to prevent herself from reaching up to cover what she might of her horrible locks, Maidie burst out, ‘He hates it! I knew he would.’

‘It is certainly startling,’ he conceded. He might have been looking at a stranger!

‘Well, you cannot hate it more than I do myself,’ Maidie stated, resolutely bringing her hands down and gripping her fingers together. ‘You may be thankful you were spared seeing it before it was styled.’

A short laugh escaped him. ‘Yes, I think I am.’

Maidie shifted away, and he moved around her, his eyes riveted to the extraordinary hair. Who would have believed it? Such a little dowd as she appeared this morning—and now! He tried to recall the impression he had formed of an unremarkable countenance, but the colour of that head was so very remarkable that he could not recover it. She turned to face him again, and he could not repress a grin at the sulk exhibited in her features.

Maidie flushed. ‘It’s well for you to laugh. I dare say you think it excessively funny. But I must live with it.’

‘So, it would appear, must I,’ he returned smoothly.

‘Well, it is no use supposing that I can get rid of it,’ Maidie said, goaded. ‘I have tried before now, and it does not help in the least.’

‘You tried to get rid of it?’ repeated Delagarde, amazed.

‘She did,’ averred Miss Wormley. ‘She cut it all off.’

It was a new voice to the Viscount, and he turned quickly in her direction. One glance at the faded countenance and the discreet grey gown told him exactly who she must be. Moving to her chair, he held out his hand.

‘You are Lady Mary’s duenna, I think?’

‘Miss Wormley, Delagarde,’ confirmed Lady Hester. ‘Our cousin, you know.’

‘Ah, yes. How do you do?’

Miss Wormley had risen quickly to her feet, and now grasped his hand, murmuring a series of half-finished sentences, from which Delagarde was unable to untangle the references to his supposed kindness from her hopes that he had taken no offence. He cut her short with a word of dismissal.

‘But you don’t mean,’ he went on, ‘that Lady Mary really did cut off her hair?’

Miss Wormley nodded vigorously. ‘Indeed, she did. She must have been thirteen at the time.’

‘Worm, don’t!’

‘But I wish to hear it,’ said Delagarde, a hint of amusement in his tone, and a smile for the duenna.

Miss Wormley succumbed. ‘She appeared at the dinner table one evening, quite shorn to pieces. She might almost have taken a razor to her head, except that it was cut too raggedly for that. I was very much shocked, but Lord Shurland could only laugh.’

‘Yes!’ said Maidie bitterly. ‘I have never forgiven Great-uncle Reginald for that. Ever since I have kept it strictly confined—until today. And I wish very much that I had not allowed Lady Hester to persuade me to do otherwise.’

Delagarde rounded on her. ‘My good girl, don’t be stupid! For God’s sake, take off that ridiculous bandeau, and let me see it properly!’

‘She will do no such thing.’ To Maidie’s relief, Lady Hester rose and came to stand beside her protegée. ‘Leave the child alone, Laurie. You can see she is distressed.’

These words caused Delagarde’s glance to move to Maidie’s face. She looked not distressed, but decidedly mutinous. As well she might! What the devil was Aunt Hes playing at, to dress the girl in this fashion? His eyes raked her from head to toe and back again. It was not so much the style of the gown as the bandeau and feathers—and the colour. There was something—yes, repellent!—in the combination of dark blue and silk. Almost he preferred the dowd. This look of sophistication, of mature womanhood, he found distinctly disturbing.

He became aware of Maidie’s wide-eyed gaze upon him, in it both question and—doubt, was it? He frowned. ‘I didn’t mean to offend you.’

She put up her chin. ‘It would take more than your disapproval to offend me. It is immaterial to me what you think of me.’

‘Is it, indeed?’ said Delagarde, instantly up in the boughs. ‘Then allow me to point out that it was not I who sought to place you under my sponsorship. But, since you will have it so, you had better learn to take account of my opinion.’

Maidie’s brows drew together. ‘Well, I will not. I have not asked you to interfere beyond what I specify.’

‘Oh, indeed?’ returned Delagarde dangerously. ‘And what precisely do you specify? I may remind you that I have not yet agreed to do anything at all.’

‘Then why am I here?’

‘You are asking me? How the devil should I know?’

‘Oh, tut, tut!’ interrupted Lady Hester, laughing. ‘Do the two of you mean to be forever at loggerheads?’ She turned apologetically to the duenna, who was looking distressed. ‘Miss Wormley, pray pay no attention. If you had been here this morning and heard them both, you would think nothing of this plain speaking between them.’

‘But Maidie must not—it is quite shocking in her…’ The Worm faded out as her charge’s inquiring grey gaze came around to her face. Daunted, but pursuing, she took up her complaint again. ‘It is not becoming, Maidie, when his lordship has been so magnanimous as to—’

‘But he has not, Worm,’ interrupted Maidie, moving to resume her seat in a chair next to her duenna’s. ‘It is Lady Hester who asked me to come. Lord Delagarde has not ceased to object—quite violently!—and he has been far from magnanimous.’

‘Oh, no doubt it is churlish of me,’ uttered Delagarde in dudgeon, ‘to object to my house being invaded, my peace being disturbed, and my life turned upside-down merely to accommodate the whims of a pert female who has not even the courtesy to make the matter a request. She demands—or, no, it was required, was it not?—that I should arrange her debut. If anyone can give me a reason why I should be magnanimous after that, I shall be delighted to hear it.’

Silence succeeded this tirade. Delagarde, having discharged his spleen, looked from one to the other in growing bewilderment. The Worm looked crushed. If Aunt Hes was not on the point of laughter, he did not know his own relative. As for Maidie herself—was that a hint of apology in her eyes? Before he could quite make up his mind, Maidie spoke.

‘It is—it is quite true,’ she said, in a gruff little voice. ‘I had not thought of it in quite that way. I suppose I need not blame you for being so horrid.’

Delagarde was conscious of a peculiar sensation—as of a melting within him. Thrown quite out of his stride, he directed the oddest look upon her, and began, ‘Maidie, I—’

She cut him short, rising swiftly to her feet. ‘No, it is for me to speak now.’ With difficulty, she overcame a rise of emotion that she did not recognise. ‘I have been selfish. If you feel that you cannot bear to accommodate me, even for a little time, I shall quite understand.’

Before Delagarde could gather his bemused wits at this wholly unlooked-for turn of events, the door opened to admit a footman. Fleetingly, Delagarde wondered at his butler’s absence, but his attention was caught by the man’s words, which had nothing, as he might have expected, to do with dinner.

‘Lord and Lady Shurland,’ announced the footman.

Chapter Three

A sharp-featured brunette walked quickly into the room, followed more ponderously by a portly gentleman some years her senior. Both were in morning dress, and clearly in a state of some agitation. Lady Shurland cast one swift glance around, caught sight of Maidie, and flung out an accusing finger.

‘So, it is true! Mary, how could you?’

Maidie looked briefly at Delagarde’s frowning countenance, and drew an unsteady breath as she turned to face the woman. She had anticipated this invasion. It was not to be supposed that Adela and Firmin would acquiesce in her schemes. Only, must they arrive just at this moment? Nothing could have been more unfortunate. A prey to hideous indecision, she stepped forward. But before she could speak, Lady Hester intervened, rising and moving forward with hand held out.

‘Good evening, Lady Shurland. We have not met, I think. My name is Lady Hester Otterburn.’

Delagarde watched the woman turn abruptly to his aunt, and shot a look at Maidie. He saw dismay in her face. Did she suppose that he meant to send her packing? It was a heaven-sent opportunity to do so. There could be little doubt that the Shurlands had come to claim her. He looked again to where Lady Shurland had perforce halted. So this was the female whose machinations Maidie sought to avoid. He had never admired angular women. Besides, she looked to be ill-tempered, darting killing looks at Maidie even as she exchanged greetings with Aunt Hes. His attention was drawn by the current and sixth Earl of Shurland, with whom he was slightly acquainted, and who was evidently labouring under suppressed emotion.

‘You will forgive this intrusion, I trust,’ he said, addressing himself to Delagarde. ‘We had been on an outing of pleasure for the day, and returned home to be met with the extraordinary intelligence, culled from my coachman, that Lady Mary had arrived in town and was even now staying in your house. You may imagine our consternation. We lost no time in setting forth to discover for ourselves if this were indeed the case.’

‘And now that you have discovered it,’ said Delagarde, his tone so bland that Maidie’s eyes flew to his face, ‘what do you propose to do about it?’

‘Why, take her home, of course!’ burst from Adela.

‘Oh?’ said Delagarde. ‘But what if she does not choose to accompany you?’

‘She will do as she is told,’ Shurland announced curtly, and turned to his quarry. ‘This flight of yours, Maidie, was quite unnecessary. I do not know with what purpose you have thrust yourself upon Lord Delagarde, but—’

‘I have done it so that he may bring me out,’ said Maidie, breaking in without ceremony.

‘Mary!’ gasped Lady Shurland in a horrified tone. ‘Do you tell me that you have had the effrontery to—to—’

‘Yes, I have. But you may be easy, Adela.’ For she meant to add that Delagarde had refused to be imposed upon. She was given no opportunity to do so.

‘Lord Delagarde, I am mortified!’ burst from Adela. ‘She is dead to all sense of shame!’

‘I believe she is,’ Delagarde agreed mildly.

‘And after I have shown every willingness to bring her to town myself. How could you, Mary, treat me so shabbily? To leave your home while we were absent, without a word said! And then to throw yourself upon the mercy of a stranger, as though we had behaved ill towards you. I do not know how you can look me in the face!’

Maidie was looking her very boldly in the face, an expression of distaste on her own countenance. ‘Pray do not put on these airs for the benefit of Lady Hester and Lord Delagarde, Adela. I have already told them what your motive was in offering to bring me out.’

‘Oh, I have no doubt that you have done your best to blacken me,’ uttered Adela in a tone of deep reproach. ‘You will not be satisfied until you have made me an object of censure in the eyes of society.’

‘Dear me,’ put in Lady Hester calmly. ‘In what way, my dear ma’am?’

‘Everyone will think that I was too mean and selfish to bring her out. It is quite untrue. I have done everything in my power to do the best for her—in despite of her every attempt to make an enemy of me. Only see how she repays me! Sneaking behind our backs in this unkind way.’

‘Adela, leave this to me,’ said her lord, and turned again to Maidie. ‘I shall refrain from discussing the evils of your conduct in this company, Maidie, but I desire that you will at once stop behaving in a fashion which even you must recognise to be reprehensible in the extreme. If, as I am informed, you have indeed taken up residence in this house—’

‘Pray do not speak to me as if I were a schoolgirl, Firmin,’ interrupted Maidie. ‘You have no authority over me.’

‘On the contrary. As Head of the Family, I must consider myself responsible for you.’ He swung, without warning, upon Maidie’s unfortunate duenna. ‘And if any further proof was needed, Miss Wormley, of your total unfittedness to have the care of Lady Mary—’

‘I will not have you turn on Worm!’ Maidie warned, flying to the shrinking duenna’s defence. ‘You may say what you wish to me, Firmin, but you may not berate my dearest Worm.’

‘Oh, Maidie, pray—’ uttered Miss Wormley, clutching at her bosom in an ineffectual way. ‘You must not! It is perfectly true that—Oh, dear!’

‘Do not be alarmed, Worm. You are not to blame.’ Maidie crossed the room as she spoke, and perched by Miss Wormley’s chair, putting a protective arm about her. ‘Poor Worm implored me not to come, and she was even more shocked at my conduct than Lord Delagarde himself.’

‘Oh, Lord Delagarde!’ uttered Adela, pouncing on this and throwing out a hand towards the Viscount. ‘What can I say? How can I sufficiently apologise?’

‘I see no reason for apology,’ said Delagarde coldly, eyeing her with a hint of hostility. ‘You can scarcely be held accountable for Lady Mary’s actions.’

‘It is excessively tolerant in you, sir,’ gushed Adela. ‘But it will not do. I know, none better, how little Mary has been taught of the conventions governing the conduct of young females of her class, and I cannot but feel myself put to the blush by the way she has behaved.’

‘It does you credit, my dear Lady Shurland,’ put in Hester, bringing Delagarde’s frowning gaze to bear on her mischievous features.

He noted the telltale twinkle in her eye, and raised questioning brows. What was she about now? She could not seriously be taking the part of a female whom he was himself rapidly taking in dislike?

‘Few ladies would be so unselfish,’ pursued Lady Hester in a kind voice, ‘as to offer to sponsor a female so lost to all sense of what is fitting. I would not blame you if you chose to give up the notion of bringing Maidie out.’

So that was it! Delagarde was shaken by an inward laugh. Still, from what he had seen of Adela Shurland, Aunt Hes was wasting her time. It would not work.

‘Whatever my feelings might be, I conceive it to be my duty,’ said Adela virtuously, and not much to Delagarde’s surprise. ‘I must hope to prevail upon her to conduct herself with more circumspection.’ She added waspishly, ‘Of course, it is no surprise to me that Miss Wormley was unable to prevent you from behaving in this inconsiderate way, Mary.’

‘She has no control over the girl whatsoever,’ said her spouse. ‘From what I have been privileged to see, I should not think she ever has had. But perhaps she will care to explain why, if she did not approve of Lady Mary’s antics, she did not see fit to inform me of what was in the wind.’

‘Oh, I could not!’ broke from the tearful duenna involuntarily. ‘I mean, it would not be—’

‘Of course you could not,’ said Maidie reassuringly. ‘Really, Firmin, how can you be so stupid? As though Worm would do anything so shabby as to betray me to you.’

‘Naturally not,’ returned Adela sarcastically. ‘It is too much to expect that she might remember who is her employer.’ She then turned on her husband. ‘I told you to send her packing. I warned you how it would be. But no, you never listen to me. I might as well have spared my breath.’

‘Adela, be silent!’ snapped her lord, reddening. He turned to his hosts with an air of apology. ‘My wife is in great distress. I trust you will make allowances.’

‘For my part,’ said Lady Hester, turning to cast a conspiratorial wink at Maidie before addressing the Earl, ‘I am willing to make every allowance. Indeed, Shurland, I do most strongly advise you to leave the child with me. It is clear that she is in pressing need of guidance, and a woman of my years, who has been about the world, is far less prone to be distressed. I do sincerely sympathise with Lady Shurland, and shall be happy to take this irksome charge off her hands.’

Maidie listened to this speech with mixed feelings. She had known Lady Hester rather less than a day, but it did not need that quick little wink to tell her what her new friend was about. But Lady Hester did not know Adela. Maidie did. She was determined, and there was no hope of her voluntarily giving up the notion. There! She was arguing already. And Firmin was on her side. Not that she cared what either of them thought. There was only one thing that could induce her to leave. She had not thought that she cared for his opinion either, but if Delagarde chose to encourage the Shurlands to take her away—!

She looked across at him and found him watching her. Their eyes met. Maidie, unaccountably breathless all at once, could tell nothing from his expression. Indeed, she forgot even to try to read it, making instead the interesting discovery that his eyes were as dark as his hair. She was vaguely surprised that she had not noticed it before. It occurred to her to wonder why in the world he was still unwed. She could only conclude that those females whose interest had been aroused—not a few, she was persuaded!—had discovered too quickly how disobliging and cross was his nature.

Then, as though to give her the lie, Delagarde abruptly smiled at her. Maidie blinked, stared at him in foolish disbelief, and was annoyed to feel herself flushing. He must have seen it, for his smile grew, and he lifted an expressive eyebrow in mute question. To Maidie’s intense relief, he then turned away, stepping into the continuing discussion.

‘Nothing could be further from my mind,’ Adela was saying, ‘than to allow Maidie to burden you, dear ma’am. Come, Shurland,’ she said, turning purposefully to her husband, ‘Maidie has trespassed enough. Make her come home with us, and let us have an end to this nonsense.’

‘Trespass? Dear me, no,’ said Lady Hester gently. ‘She is here by my invitation.’

‘That may be,’ said Shurland heavily, ‘but I am certain that Delagarde cannot wish for such a charge.’

‘On the contrary,’ said Delagarde, energetically entering the lists, ‘you must know that my mother commended Lady Mary to my care many years ago, and I have been remiss in not honouring the promise.’

‘Commended Lady Mary to your care?’ echoed Shurland, gazing at him blankly. ‘Why should she have done so?’

‘My dear sir, nothing could have been more natural. When a young female relative is orphaned—’